Heart of Dorkness
by DieselCat
Summary: A tongue in cheek critique of Eragon, presented as journal excerpts from an expedition to Alagaesia by four stouthearted sons of the noble Kingdom of Unobtania.
1. Chapter 1

Recently uncovered in the archives of the Royal Academy of Unobtania, the expeditionary journals of Reginald Smith-Smyth-Smith are presently on loan to the Alagaesian Geographic Society. The journals have caused quite an uproar in academic circles, as they represent some of the first truly objective verification of the real-world events underpinning the Eragon Legend. Interestingly enough, they lend very little weight to the more traditional view of "Eragon-as-hero," skewing far more toward a view of "Eragon-as-annoying-little-berk" (a view which has, it must be said, gained greatly in popularity over the last few years.)

NB: If the text seems a bit on the confusing side, please bear in mind that, like many folk of the elder ages, Captain Smith-Smyth-Smith apparently regarded proper spelling as something which happened to other people.

EXCERPTS FROM  
A Tru and most Accurat account of the Grand Royal Ekspedishun to Darkest Alagaesia  
kept by Captain Sir Reginald Bertram Smith-Smyth-Smith, commanding

Members:  
Doctor Lazarus Fetherstoanhaw, Royal Akademie  
Serjeant Meriwether Twisselton  
Pryvat Arlo Pinchnikel,  
loyal & humbl Servants all of Her Royal Hyness the Queen

Day 1  
-Afternoon -- Hav crost the borders into the Northern reaches of Alagaesia. I hav great Hoaps for a Most profitabl ventur. Rumors tell of great Wealth and many Raisses living in Accord together. To carrie back a positiv report would be quyt a Fether in our Caps, and no misstaik!

-Evening -- Encounter'd a most unplesant Sort along the trail. Possest of an eerie shaid of i was he, and a brusk and rued Manner. He seem'd to be in Charj of a littl gang of sorts - alas that such banditry should go unchek'd! Brutish things they wer, too, each with great Horns atop his head and arms made for crushing. And the stink was Most foul! I shall need to wash most Vigorous this night. How it is they thought to catch unwarie Travelers I gather not, for any who catch Wind of such as that would shurlie flee in Great Haist. The leader seem'd most upset we wer not his chosen Quarry, but a few stern Words had them Sort'd ryt and propper.

A somwhat unfavorabl beginning to our littl adventur. Still it is but the First Day, and as they say "Where Lyf is, ther fynd ye Hoap as well!"

Day 2  
-Erlie Morning -- Terribl happenings. Doctor Fetherstoanhaw mislaid his Journal along the trail, and we ventur'd back to see if it myt be found. As we near'd the bandit trap so did another partie, from the far Syd. Thees wer shurlie of the local Fey, which Doctor F. has call'd the "elvens." 2 wer struk down Most quiklie by the smellie beasts. The third, a ladie of long and Flowing raven loks, did abandon them most Crewellie and fled. A craven sacrifys it was, and of no effekt - the Bandit brought her hoars down by som fell magik. Serjeant Twisselton was all for coming to her Aid (Galant Coad and all that,) until the forest started bursting out in Flaims. I elected a stratejic retreat was in Order. Best not to taik a Hand in the local doings just yet.

(I should lyk it Noted heer that I gaiv Said command in a manner Most Befitting an officer of Her Majestie, and did not at Any Tym instruct the men to "Bugger off befoar we ar cook'd," no matter what a certain Serjeant may insist.)

Though I hold the Stiff Upper Lip for the mens' saik, I fynd the Heart is Troubl'd. Doctor F.'s tails spaik of elvens as wys and fair, yet if what we hav seen is the Tru Measur of their rais, they ar at best a pack of Handsom Dolts. To stroll so blyndlie into such a Trap! And the crewel cowardiss of their mistress was Greatlie saddening. Even the Galant Serjeant was seen to cry a singal teer for the sensless waist of elven lyf.

Alas. Perhaps the local Men will pruev moar fruitful.

Day 4  
-Noon -- Defishent tho certain of the Raisses may be, the hoarses of Alagaesia are Magnificent creaturs. Following the Unpleasantness on the Forest road, I thought it best we Speed our jurnie on a bit. The fellow we purchast the hoarses from was most Agreeabl, wuns he was Satisfy'd with our Coin. He carpt on at length about somwun call'd "Galbee" - evidentlie the local Mugwump hear about. The ususal pesent grumbling, Taxes &c. I must maik a Noat to pay this Galbee a call and present the Queen's Compliments.

But yes - about the hoarses. Marvelus they are, having carrie'd us near Day and Nyt without rest. They seem to need no stabling or even such cair as do our nativ Hoarses. I am shur the Captain-Jeneral will be Most Desirous of aquiring som breeding stok.

-Evening -- We find ourselvs in the midst of a rued littl plais call'd Carvahall. An unremarkabl villaj mostly, though we did Witness an odd event. The Serjeant and I, seeking provisons, proceeded to what we wer told to be the local Butchers. I was suspishus at first that we wer being Had On - the plais was spotlesslie Clean. It was a Marvel to me their was tym to cut meat, with all the Cleaning he must do.

As we gather'd up our meats, a local boy caim along and maid to Barter with the surlie Butcher. Poor lad seem'd a bit Slow of the Brain, thinking to barter such a stoan to a simpl traidsman. He mention'd it was found in the mountans nearby (a promising prospekt if myning ryts could be arranged!) and this seem'd to upset the Butcher somthing fierss. Som blather about curses &c. Always a pitie to hear the lower classes induljing in this Sort of thing. It myt hav com to Blows had not the Butcher's dauter and an older fellow interveen'd. Touching to see her taik the Simplton's part, though it meant to defy her father - the sort of Starch wun myt ekspekt of a good "Hoam Countrie" gel! A pitie, though, I had no chanss to inquyr after her recipie for Hair tonic. My supply is running low, and it would Not Do to represent Her Royal Hyness with dull hair that dos not Shimmer lyk...well, som flowing shinie thing.

Day 13  
-Evening -- Wether is turn'd Foul. The men ar growing dispirit'd. I fear the mountains are a Miss for anie syn of preshuss stoans or mettels. Nyn days we search'd and found onlie the Remains of som terribl fyr. Curious how bits of this Land seem to randomlie burst into Flaim.

Day 17  
-Afternoon -- Wether has finallie clear'd. The men are out for a bit of a Stroll. The inn is tolerabl, but rather Cramp'd after manie days together. Pryvat Pinchnikel and Serjeant Twisselton still not speaking; though he has apologised for the broken Noas, Pryvat P. insists it was a fair reakshun. Whyl I cannot condoan such ny-mutinie, I am pryvatlie inclyn'd to agree. Aniewun waking up to fynd a Drunken Serjeant T. has misstaikenlie clamber'd into wun's bed, and is now drowsilie cuddling wun and calling wun "Daisie-diddums" myt react...er...stronglie. Hav plaist the Serjeant on strikt Ail-rashun to avoid anie further such Embarassments.

Locals say a Band of Traders will be coming through the town shortlie. I intend that we should Wayt hear until their Arrival. Perhaps we can learn somthing Mor of conditions in Alagaesia at large.

Day 22  
-Morning -- Traders arryv'd at last. Clearlie the hylyt of the season for Carvahall (alas.) Not bad for such a Rustik littl corner, though not a Patch on our own Smythbie Market Day.

-Afternoon -- Spott'd the Simplton from the Butcher's again. Talking to a Jewel-smith this tym, with his Father their as well. Apparentlie still looking to sell his Stoan. At least they hav manag'd to find the ryt shop this tym.

Merchants seem divyd'd in their Views on the ruler - Galbatoriks, by the way, although I still think it hardlie Fitting for a propper King's naim. Most seem fair content with the way of his ruel. Fear we may hav pikt a poor tym to launch our Ekspedishun, though. "Urgals," the retched Things we saw on our first nyt, ar rumor'd to be in leeg with a band of Malcontents call'd the Varden. No dout that red-i'd bruet is wun of them. A poks on such tretcherie!

-Evening -- Most eksiting day it has been. Wun of the local Graybeards shair'd quyt the storie tonyt. Rather fancieful, with all Manner of Dragons and magik &c. Just the sort of thing thies common Folk adoar. Curious though, that a tail so libelous of the Emperor Galbatoriks would be shair'd so openlie. If even haf of it wer true, as Pryvat Pinchnikel so aptlie said, this Galbatoriks would be "a ryt bloody nutter" to say the least. I spaik to a merchant that I desyr'd awdiens with His Majestie, in the hoap of taiking his measur for my self, and the Fellow onlie laffed. He said it has been Manie ajes sinss aniewun has reallie seen Galbatoriks, saiv for a few Trusted servants. It seems to be a trend with thees Heathen rulers, taking power onlie to shut themselvs away. Serjeant Twisselton wuns told of a journie to the Califat of Huesyah-Dheddie, wherin the first Act of the present ruler was to seal himself inside a room with three servants and a small duk he call'd Morris. I can but pray we find this Galbatoriks to be moar stabl.  



	2. Chapter 2

NB: The next several weeks' entries detail the Expedition's travels along the West Coast. As the purpose of this narrative is exploration of the Eragon Myth, and not the history of the Alagaesian seafood industry, these entries are not present herein. Anyone wishing to peruse the full text may contact Doctor B.R. Theopolis of the AGS. 

Day 107  
-Morning -- Hav return'd to the Lands round about Carvahall, if my cartograffie is Correct. Though it is no less Dull a corner than twer befoar, it is nys to Awaik without the reek of fish upon me.

-Evening -- Trod in somthing most Foul erlier. The scat (so it seem'd to Be) was of a speshiallie nokshus sort, and Most copious. Odd that their was no Syn found of such a creatur during our erlier eksplorashuns.

Day 109  
-Afternoon -- Serjeant Twisselton has gon and got the Doctor in somwhat of a tizzie. Serjeant T. report'd the Finding of traks allej'd to be thoas of a Great Beast, in the forest near to our Camp. Alas their was littl Syn when we all later return'd to the plais, as the Wind has blown most brisk thees sevral days and scatter'd the sno. Given the unfortuenat fait of my boots (Well-play'd I brought a spair set! - the Scat has eaten ryt through the first) Doctor F. is convins'd we hav found a creatur unnoan to the Royal Akademie. It is good to see his Spirits rais'd again; I onlie hoap they ar not dash'd in the end.

-Nytfall -- The eksytment has consuem'd even Pryvat Pinchnikel. As he search'd for moar Signs of the beast, Doctor F. caim upon a lim of a Tree which had been mark't quyt deeplie. I opyn'd the marks wer mayhap thoas of a bear, as som ar noan to clym the trees of our Forests. Doctor F. has said this is not lyklie though, as their ar few bears hearabout, and ar not Wont to hang upsyd-down fifteen feet up an oak in anie cais. Pryvat P. has advans't the ydea of a Dragon. Clearlie the boy's mynd has been Captur'd by the local tails of thees Dragon Ryders. I shall hav to giv him a few Words to settl this rampant imagining.

Day 110  
BLOODIE HELL THER IS A DRAGON ABOUT THE PLAIS

-Morning -- Alas, the Ink and Quill ar not forgiving to the impasshon'd dyarist. I myt onlie plead the abov was writ in a stait of Great eksytment on my part. I had risen erlie to anser the Natural Summons, and whyl about my bisness a flying beast of som great Syz caim to land a meer few yards distant. At wuns I sought for a plais of saiftie from which the Beast myt be observ'd, but the creatur had maid good its hyding most quiklie. Upon my returning to the Camp, Doctor F. was all for pursuing after it; however I feel it best to maik for Carvahall and see to our Supplys. As I maid to point out, such a thing will shurlie remain about the plais and we ar better serv'd to taik up the chais fresh and rested.

Day 112  
-Midday -- Wuns again we ar prepair'd to sallie Forth into the Spyn mountans. Their was a strainj fellow about the Town today. Doctor F. and I wer heading for the Butchers plais when we met him. Dress't head-to-foot in blak, and he spaik as if he had a nasty fluks. It seem'd his master (which he would not Naim) had baid him find a sertan stoan. I thought mayhap it myt be lyk to the stoan which that simplton boy had with him the tym we caim befoar to Carvahall. This news seem'd to spark an Interest from them, but it was clear they wer not Pleas'd when I could not giv the lad's naim. Befoar we parted the Doctor offer'd a poltiss and som leechs from his Kit to aid with the fluks, but the Fellow onlie hisst as lyk a cat. Such a rued reply to an act of kyndness! Their is nothing lyk a good bleeding to restoar the humors, I say.

Som about the town hav said this wun and his fellow ar in serviss to the Emperor Galbatoriks. A pitie he would hav so littl cair for the health of his Men.

-Evening -- Daim Fortuen is with us. The men Spotted the dragon flying with great haist away toward the Spyn. Whyl the good Doctor is most eager to set out, I hav no intent of traveling over the nyt. We will Stryk out at first lyt.

Day 113  
-Midday -- A hard morning of travel, even with our Marvelus horses, and now their is a Dilema. I chans't to see the Dragon overhed maiking it seem'd bak to Carvahall. And a ryder clearlie could be seen upon it! Serjeant Twisselton was all for Following after, perhaps eager for a bit of Sport, however Doctor F. has said the Dragons of storie ar wont to lair away from the plaisses of Men. I think it best we carrie on to Find the plais wherin the beast maiks its hoam.

-Nyt -- Suksess! We hav found the Lair of the great beast. By my map it is the plais noat'd erlier wherin the land and Trees wer burnt. At last twould seem we no the caws. Their ar manie traks of the Creatur about and a plais wher it laid down, and blood as well in the Sno. Wether it is that of the Rider or som unlukie soul I cannot say, though we pray tis the former.

Day 114  
-Daybraik -- We camp't near to the Clearing and kept watch through the nyt. No syn of the Dragon returning. Mayhap the beast dos not return nytlie, or indeed we ar Misstaiken and this is no Lair at all. Whatever the cais, a return to the Town is our nekst Cours. Now this plais is noan to us, and in easie reach for the horses, better we should gather what loar and nolej their may be from the locals.

-Midday -- Terribl doings ar afoot in this land. A farmer the naim of Garro was attak't Moast Brutallie and his hoam burnt squair to the ground. He was saiv'd by a Nefew living with him, a boy call'd Eragon which was also injur'd quyt badlie. Though nun hav said, I can tell the Men ar thinking much as I for what has dun this awful thing.

-Afternoon -- It is as we fear'd. The syt of Garro's farm is Ryf with syn of the dragon. Moar traks and blood as well, lyk that which was found in the woods. Oddlie, the traks which I judj to be the Rider's ar thoas of a bandie-legged man, who walks as if a kikking-ball wer held twikst his nees. Mayhap tis sum unplesant to ryd a dragon bair-bak't.

Day 115  
-Lait Morning -- Doctor Fetherstoanhaw and I hav maid discreet enquirings with sertan of the Villajers as to the chans of a Dragon living hearabout. Most hav greet'd the noshun with scorn or braizen laffter, saiv for wun - the storie-teller of the plais, a gray-heded partie calling himself Brom. He maid to dismiss the Ydea until I spaik that we had seen the very Beast ourselvs. At this he turn'd much quyeter and baid us speak no moar of dragons to the Townsfoak. We ar to meet again the morrow, when he has promis't their will be moar to tell.

Day 116  
-Midday -- O! for a simpler tym. I fear my hed myt spin away for all the Strainjness of this Alagaesia and its peepls. Our meeting with the graybeard Brom being kept, we hav com to lern the True Fakts of much of what has transpyr'd here. It is com out that the simpl lad which first we met in the Butcher shop is this saim Eragon - and HE is the dragon's keeper! Ye gods abov and below, what Manner of fait would plais such power in the hands of so dull a wit?

It seems our thoughts of the dragon having destroy'd Garro's Farm wer rather wyd of the true Mark. It was insted, Brom thinks, the sicklie fellows in Blak, which he has call'd Razak. I wonder how such could maik so great a devastashun when they can hardlie draw a breth, but the old fellow is quyt sure. For his Saik I will hold my tung on this. Eragon is verie hot to Follow after and taik his venjans upon them. How he thinks to do it nun of us can see. When Brom present'd him a soard - a most Curious blaid it is, too, moar on that below - he could not but hold it off the Erth. If thees Razzak hold the power Brom claims, the lad would be nawt mor than a Greasie spot upon the land should he fais against wun, saying nothing of the Pair.

As to the oddness of this soard, to start it is of a Steel which seems lyk to a rubie-stoan in color. By far the strainjest matter is the syz of the thing. As Brom offer'd it first to Eragon, it seem'd to my ey about a Length of fyv feet all together. I new this to fals, for such a thing would be moar Lyk to cut the wun who carries it than his enemie. Too, it would be far to grait a length to carrie about the waist, as Eragon dos. Seen now, it is closer to three and a porshun feet. I spaik of this to the others and Pryvat Pinchnikel agreed he had seen it also, wher Doctor F. thinks it to remain the longer. How odd that a learned Man of letters could think such, when it clearlie Could not be. Why the soard would be Near unto the boy's own hyt! He dos insist, though, and no word of Ours will sway him.

-Afternoon -- Having spaik with my Fellows, it is desyded we ar to carrie on with the to of Thees as they go. Clearlie their is a fait which they carrie, and this Should be a craking good adventur. As well, Brom nos much of Alagaesia's loar and Historie, and may pruev a valu'd resoars. He claims it is for the saik of loar he Follows Eragon, though I consider it moar he cairs not to leav a dragon in the cair of such a lakwit boy.

Day 117  
-Evening -- Such a dull day I hav never noan, and pray I shall not again. Brom and Eragon spent much of the Day talking over dragon-Saddels, and later making wun for the Beast (which is a dragoness, and call'd Safira - such terribl imaginashun they hav in this countrie!) The onlie respit from this drear caim when Brom insisted on the bying of hoarses for the two of them. Eragon carp'd a bit, wanting to ryd faster after the Razzak with Safira, but the old Fellow held firm. Good man, that - a strong hand and a few Good stroppings would have the lad in propper shaip with no tym.


End file.
